


The Memorial

by AngieInStL



Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-15
Updated: 2011-06-15
Packaged: 2017-10-20 11:10:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/212133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngieInStL/pseuds/AngieInStL
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A surprising phone call gives Chris a look at Vin's past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Memorial

It was a quiet afternoon in the offices of ATF Team 7. Their leader, Chris Larabee, was in his office, pretending to review the expense reports for the last case while the rest of the team sat at their desks, similarly pretending to work. JD and Buck were online, playing some idiotic game they both enjoyed. Ezra was shopping for a gift for Maude’s upcoming birthday, a thankless task, for certain. Josiah was reading over some material for a profiling seminar he was attending in two weeks. Vin, as usual, was perusing a site that showed the newest in weapons and ammunition. His eyebrows rose slightly as he shook a handful of peanuts into his palm and began tossing them, one by one, into his mouth. Nathan was making reservations for a long weekend with Rain, studying the prices of rooms at various hotels and lodges in Vail.

The phone rang on Vin’s desk, sounding abnormally loud in the unnatural quiet. He grabbed the handset and pressed it to his ear. “Tanner,” he said softly. “Hey, Greg. What’s up?” he asked, settling back in his chair and pinning the phone against his shoulder. His relaxed smile immediately faded. “When? Yeah, I can be there. See ya, man,” he ended, slowly returning the handset to the base.

Josiah’s desk was closed to Vin’s and he heard the juddering breath the younger man drew as he raked both hands through his hair. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

“Yeah … No … ‘scuse me,” Vin replied, coming to his feet and heading for the restroom.  
Five pairs of concerned eyes followed Tanner until the office door swung closed behind him. Josiah eased out of his chair and checked the caller ID on Vin’s phone, turning to the others and shrugging his shoulder. “Greg Micheals,” he said. “That name mean anything to anyone?”

JD’s fingers flew over the keyboard and he stared intently at the information as it appeared. “Greg Micheals … there are 42 listings,” he announced.

“It’s an 806 area code,” Josiah offered.

“Here it is, Greg Micheals, married, father of three. Works for the public defender’s office in-” JD stopped speaking when Vin reentered the office.

“We were in a foster home together,” Vin said in a voice tinged with anger.

“Vin … I wasn’t-” JD began.

“It’s alright. It isn’t a secret. Buck, would y’all mind seein’ if Chris can join us?” Tanner asked, his accent reminiscent of when he first joined the team.

Buck leapt up and tapped on Chris’ door frame. “Can you come out here?” he asked.

Once Chris was standing in the bullpen, Vin explained. “I just got a call from Greg. My … f-foster father passed-” his voice faltered and he scrubbed at his eyes. “I want to go to the … funeral.”

“When?” Chris asked.

“Day after tomorrow.”

“Go on. Give Ezra the information and he’ll set you up a flight and hotel,” Chris suggested. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Vin drew a deep breath and sighed. “Thanks,” he said softly.

Chris watched as Vin moved to Ezra’s desk and gave him a name, spelling the last name so he could look up the information on the man’s funeral. Ezra quietly asked a question and Vin nodded. Ezra clicked the mouse and typed in something, waited for the site to process, then clicked something else and began reading through the data that appeared.

“I can get you on a flight this evening but it connects through Salt Lake City. You’ll get there at 11:45 tonight,” Ezra said.

“I ain’t gotta be there tonight, Ez. That one in the morning will be fine,” Vin replied.

“Consider it done. I’ll arrange for a rental for you and a hotel. I’ll e-mail it to you when I have it all set up.”

“Thanks, Ez,” Vin said, reaching out to rest his hand on the southerner’s shoulder for a moment. “I’m gonna head home and start packing.”

“If there’s anything we can do,” JD offered.

“I know,” Vin said as he went to his desk and shut down his computer.

Chris leaned over Ezra’s shoulder and looked at the flight information. There were no direct flights; they all had a layover in either Salt Lake City or Dallas. Chris watched as Ezra’s nimble fingers entered the necessary information to book passage on the earliest flight in the morning. “Two,” he said softly. Ezra nodded and clicked on another tab to add Chris to the reservation.

Vin tidied his desk, partly to avoid the curious and sympathetic faces of his friends and partly so he didn’t lose anything. It was something Matt had taught him. His breath caught at the thought and he closed his eyes for a moment.

“Would you like some company?” Chris asked when Vin opened his eyes and looked around.

“You don’t have ta-” Vin protested.

“I know I don’t have to but I’d like to if you don’t mind,” Chris countered.

A tremulous smile tugged at Vin’s mouth and he nodded, “I’d appreciate it, Cowboy.”

After Vin left the office, JD turned to Buck. “I’ve never seen Vin so broke up,” he said. “He’s usually so … so-” he paused, searching for an appropriate word.

“Blasé,” Ezra suggested.

***

The next morning, Chris pulled up outside of Vin’s apartment building and tapped the horn. The door opened and Vin came out, escorted by three small children and an older woman. She caught his shoulder and he turned. She gave him a motherly hug he clung to her for a long moment before he let go. She pressed something into his hand and patted his shoulder as he started away. The kids called out to him in a mixture of Spanish and English, waving even after he put his bag in the truck bed and slid into the passenger seat. He rolled down the window and stuck his arm out to wave at them as Chris pulled away.

“I appreciate ya coming along,” Vin said by way of greeting.

“They all would have come if they thought you’d let them,” Chris replied.

They settled into a comfortable silence as Chris pulled the truck onto the highway. They reached the airport with plenty of time to spare. A quick check of their ID saw them moved to the front of the security line, where their bags received only a cursory check. They stopped at the Starbuck’s on their way to the departure lounge and got coffee and a bite to eat.

Chris studied his friend as he ate. He didn’t press Vin for information, he figured Tanner would talk when he was ready. Ezra had sent him a whole file on the man who died, some of the information from before Vin had even lived with them. Chris knew that the man’s wife had died almost 14 years ago from a heart attack and that they had four of their own children and a plethora of foster children. The man had worked as a mechanic for 22 years before retiring. Nothing in the file indicated why Vin would suddenly drop everything to go to his funeral.

Vin talked during the flight but not about the topic of Matthew Anastasoff. He spoke about the kids who had been there to see him off, of their mother and her struggles to find work. He talked about the local youth center, where he donated time and money. He spoke more on the flights and layover than he had in the past week and still he said nothing of consequence. It was as if he was afraid of what would happen if he broached the subject.

Their rental car was a dark gray Ford Taurus. Vin tossed their bags in the trunk while Chris programmed the GPS unit with the address of the hotel. He was grateful that his friend didn’t press him for information. He didn’t think he could talk about it without embarrassing himself by crying. He stared out the window, absently cataloging the scenery as it flew past.

The hotel was new, at least to Vin, but it was centrally located. Ezra had reserved them a small suite. After he unpacked his suitcase, Vin sat down and pulled out his cell phone.  
Chris sat and tried to focus on the television so as not to eavesdrop on Vin’s call. When it ended, Vin got up and moved to look out of the window.

“Do you want to go see what the restaurant downstairs has for lunch?” Chris asked.

“No, I want to take you to one of my favorite places to eat when I lived here.”

“Lead on,” Chris said with a smile.

The little mom and pop pizza place had definitely seen better days but it was clean and smelled wonderful. A perky teenaged girl showed them to a table by the window and gave them menus. Vin asked for a pitcher of draft and she smiled warmly in response. By the time she returned with the beer, Vin had decided what he wanted.

Vin ordered a pizza for them to split and a side order of lasagna for himself. Chris ordered the same, trusting Tanner not to order anything that wasn’t good.

“I bussed tables here one summer,” Vin said as his hands drummed nervously on the tabletop. “That was the best summer of my life.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t eat your way through your paychecks,” Chris teased.

“I ‘bout near did. Momma Rosita thought I was too skinny. She was always tryin’ to fatten me up.”

A few minutes later, their waitress slid a large pan in between them. The aroma sent Chris’ mouth to watering. She returned with plates and extra napkins. By the time they had each finished a slice, she settled the lasagna on the table. Chris wondered at the small portion on his plate but he used his fork to cut off a bite and blew on it before slipping it into his mouth.

“Mmmm,” Vin moaned appreciatively around his first bite.

They ate slowly, savoring the rich flavors and washing it down with beer. Chris asked a couple of leading questions, hoping to get Vin to open up but his answers were short and simple. He wasn’t ready to talk.

They had almost finished their meal when an older woman came to the table. She glanced at Chris for a moment, then turned her stare on Vin.

“You’re one of Matt and Dorothy’s kids, aren’t you?” she asked.

Vin smiled. “Yes, Ma’am,” he said. “Worked here, too,” he added as his cheeks reddened.

“Only one kid ever worked here who blushed like that. How have you been, Vin?”

Rising from his seat, Vin embraced the woman. “How are ya, Rosie?” he asked.

“Annette and Julie will be so glad you could make it!” she said, giving him another squeeze. “Annette is expecting her third next month. Can you believe that? And she still has two foster kids. Julie and her husband just got back from Haiti. They flew down to help with the orphans. Tim and Jack were in here just the other night. Poor kids, they were really taking it hard. Oh, listen to me. You go ahead and finish your lunch. You are still much too skinny,” she said, poking at Vin’s stomach.

“Thanks, Rosie,” Vin said as he slid back into his chair.

“Those must be the Anastasoff kids, right?” Chris asked.

“Yeah, Annette and Julie were a couple of years older than me and the boys were younger. It don’t surprise me that Annette is fostering. She was like a little momma hen with the little ones.”

It was clear from the emotion in his voice that Vin was close to breaking down. Chris picked up the bill and slid the keys to the rental across the table. “Why don’t you go start the car and I’ll be right out,” he suggested.

Vin bolted from the restaurant and went straight to the rental car. He hadn’t counted on seeing Rosie or on her talking about the others. The knot in his throat ached, echoing the pain in his heart. With shaking hands, he unlocked the door and slid into the passenger seat. He saw Chris coming across the parking lot and took a couple of deep breaths to steady himself.

“Where to?” Chris asked as he sank into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

“There’s a, um, florist a couple of blocks from here,” Vin answered.

“Alright,” Chris said as he pulled out of the parking space.

“I’m meeting with the other kids at three.”

“Alright.”

Chris drove to the florist and stood back while Vin picked out an arrangement and signed a card to be included. Vin was quiet on the drive back to the hotel.

There was a game on ESPN and Chris settled in to watch it, waiting patiently for Vin to say something but the younger man was quiet. It was eerie.

At fifteen to three, Vin stood up and smoothed the wrinkles from his shirt. “Would you … come with me?” he asked.

“You sure?” Chris countered.

“I’d like you to meet the others. I know they’re curious about you.”

“Okay, I’ll come.”

Vin gave him directions to a nice, middle-class neighborhood. Chris took note of the mix of older couples doing yard work and kids playing on lawns. He passed the address Vin had given him and had to turn around at the end of the block. An unusual collection of vehicles lined both sides of the street in front of the house, some with plates from Nevada, Oklahoma and New Mexico. Vin looked at the house and swallowed hard before unlocking his seatbelt and getting out of the car.

Chris got out and waited for Vin to come around before crossing the street. The door opened before they even reached the porch and a woman with honey-blonde hair stepped outside.

“Vin,” she exclaimed as she opened her arms to him.

They clung to each other and it was obvious that the woman was crying. Chris averted his eyes and noticed the names scratched into the sidewalk that went around the porch. Above each name was a handprint, presumably of the person named.

“Chris? This is Annette Anastasoff … Brownwell,” Vin said as he introduced the woman. “And this is Chris Larabee, my boss.”

“Thank you for coming with Vin. Won’t you come in and have something to drink?” she asked as she opened the screen door and held it for them.

Vin received a good many hugs as he moved through the crowd in the living room. Chris paused just inside the door and looked around. The mantle ran the width of the room and was covered with portraits of kids. Family portraits were arranged on the adjacent wall, showing different combinations of those same kids. It was easy to pick out Vin among the faces, he hadn’t changed all that much over the years. Aside from his face being thinner and his eyes bigger, he looked very much the way he did now.

“Chris? You coming?” Vin asked.

Moving across the room, Chris got a look at the hall that ran the length of the house. It was also covered with pictures. He was led to the dining room. The table had been pushed against the wall and folding chairs rested in a rack for anyone who needed one. A motley assortment of young men sat around the perimeter of the room. Some were dressed in suits, some in more casual clothing and some, like Vin, in jeans and pullovers.

“Chris, this is Greg and Mark and Tom and Rick and Dan and Danny and Daniel and James and Jimmy and Phil and Manuel and Steffan,” Vin said, pointing to each in turn.

Chris recognized that none of the names were of the Anastasoff children and he realized that they had likely all been foster children. After passing the table and getting something to drink, they took chairs from the rack and sat down.

“I was telling the guys about when I got here the first time,” the man named Rick explained. “Dotty was showing me where to put my things and Tommy was following her around, he couldn’t wait for me to get unpacked so he could take me out in the yard to play.”

“I think he was tired of playing with the girls,” one of the others said.

“Do you remember when we got the Nintendo for Christmas?” another asked.

“And Dotty was down in the floor playing with us?” someone else volunteered.

Almost as one, the entire group mimed holding a control pad and raising it as they jabbed at imaginary buttons.

“Like that actually helped Mario jump over the butt-biters!” Greg said with a laugh.

“And do you remember the time when that teacher made Jimmy cry at school?”

“And Dotty went down there and balled her out in front of the classroom!”

“And the time Matt got in the principal’s face for keeping Danny after school?

“Old man Fritz was never the same after that!”

It was obvious from the comments that Matt and Dorothy, or ‘Dotty’ as they called her’, had been a very positive influence on them. Two other young men joined the group and introductions were made again.

“Hey, guys! Look what I found!” someone shouted from the other room. Another young man came in and held out a hard-backed book. On the cover was a color image of a body, showing the organs and bones.

“Hey! I’ll bet Vin remembers that book!” Steffan shouted over the laughter.

Chris looked at Vin as he ducked his head and covered his eyes. It was easy to see the bright blush that colored his cheeks and ears.

“What is it?” Chris asked as he leaned closer.

“He saw something on a commercial and he asked Dotty about it. She made him go get the book so she could explain it to him,” the man with the book answered. “By the way, I’m Tom Anastasoff.”

“What did he ask?” one of the others asked.

A deafening silence filled the room as they all turned to look at Vin, who was still hiding behind his hand.

“Come on, Tom, tell us!” another clamored.

“No way! He threatened to tell my mom about my Playboy magazines if I told!” Tom replied, his eyes wide with remembered horror.

“Come on! Someone tell us!” Phil demanded.

Uncovering his eyes, Vin glanced at the book and looked quickly away. “I was just a kid! I didn’t know anything about anything!” He paused, looking around the room at each of the others before turning to Chris. “There was this commercial about enlarged prostate and I asked her what that was and did I have one.”

“And mom made him go and get the book,” Tom added.

“When she said that, I told her I didn’t want to know anymore but she made me get it anyway,” Vin continued. “And she called all of us together to explain it to us.”

“And Danny and Daniel started asking questions about how babies were made,” James said as the two young men began denying that it was them that asked.

Over the teasing and denials, Vin leaned closer to Chris and explained, “Dotty always made sure she answered our questions. She made us learn the right names for the parts of the body so that we could use them correctly if we had to.”

“Hey! Remember the commercials about drugs?” Manuel asked.

“Every time the announcer said ‘Talk to your kids about drugs’ and she’d yell out to us, “Don’t use drugs!” No matter where we were or what we were doing, she always yelled that at us!” Dan said.

Over the course of the next few hours, Chris heard many stories about Matt and Dotty. Matt had taken them all fishing, teaching them how to clean and cook their catch and Dotty let them eat the whole thing if they wanted. They had gone camping … in the rain. They had gone to a wedding, in Florida. The boys who had gone spoke in awe of their visit to Disney.

“Why wouldn’t they have taken them along?” Chris whispered.

“Most foster parents didn’t take the kids on vacation with them. They got what’s called ‘respite care’ so that they could get away when they needed to,” Vin explained.

“Hey! Do you remember Jacob?” someone asked.

“Isn’t he the one you guys duct taped to the bed rails?” another voice asked.

“He wouldn’t shut up!” the first voice defended amidst the laughter.

“Wasn’t he the one with the stinky feet?”

It turned out that Jacob had only stayed for a few days, as an emergency placement, but he had wreaked havoc in the house. His mother let him stay up as late as he wanted and the kid didn’t know what it was to go to bed at a regular time. He also woke up early on Saturday morning and was trying to wake the others up so they got the duct tape and covered his mouth and taped his hands together.

“Dad was really exasperated with you boys over that one,” Jack said. “But he laughed about it every time he talked about it.”

“Remember the therapist? What was his name? The one who stuttered …” James asked.

“That was Mitch. He saw all of us at one time or other,” Vin replied. “He used to take us out for ice cream to get us to open up to him.”

“He couldn’t believe we had water fights in the house. I saw him at church a couple of months ago. He asked about some of you,” Jack said.

“Water fights in the house?” Chris asked.

“Yeah,” Vin said, “It started when Dotty got those birds. Remember the doves? The ones that laughed all the time?” Several of them nodded and Vin continued, “She got this squirt bottle and sprayed them to get them to shut up. Then one time, Matt said something to her and she turned around and sprayed him square in the face. Then, later that evening, she was washing dishes and he was rinsing them and he sprayed her. From then on, we squirted each other whenever we could. She even went out and bought us each a bottle of our own!”

Knowing smiles spread around the room as each of the young men remembered the couple who had given them a home when they needed one. Annette and Julie passed around a notebook for all of their contact information, saying that they would each be receiving something in the future.

Finally, around eight that evening, the group began to break up. Tearful hugs were exchanged as they confirmed the time for the funeral the next day. Every time they tried to leave, someone would bring up some memory and they would start talking again. Finally, one of Annette’s children stumbled through the jungle of legs and climbed up her side to lay his head on her shoulder.

“I really have to go,” she said, smiling apologetically to everyone as she wove her way to the door.

Vin was quiet on the drive back to the hotel. Seeing all of them again had stirred up a lot of memories. They went through McDonalds and he got a large order of fries, comfort food, he had explained to Chris.

“Can I ask you something?” Chris said as drove along the mostly quiet streets. Seeing the shrug, he asked, “How many of you lived there at the same time? There had to be 25 or 30 kids along that mantle.”

“There were eight of us at one time, nine while Jacob was there. There’s a room on the second floor that had three sets of bunk beds in it. Dotty always said that her home was made with rubber bricks, plenty of give for more people. It’s too bad they couldn’t find all of the others.”

“How many kids did they foster altogether? Do you even know?”

Vin let his head fall back against the seat as he counted against his thigh, “Thirty-eight that stayed at least a month. Fifteen or sixteen emergency placements that only stayed a couple of days.”

“How long were you there?”

“Four years, eight months and sixteen days,” Vin answered.

Chris wondered how he could remember it so precisely.

“I’s one of the lucky ones,” Vin added softly.

“Lucky?”

“I didn’t have any family pullin’ on me.”

Back at the hotel, Vin stripped to his underclothes and crawled into bed. The emotional voyage had left him exhausted. Chris slipped out and went down to the pool deck to call the others. It took several minutes for Buck to conference the rest of the team into the call so Chris could tell them what had happened. His voice cracked and he scrubbed tears from his eyes as he recounted some of the stories. At one point, the young men had started detailing their lives from the time they had left or been taken from the foster home. Most were not the most positive experiences and Chris was certain that it would have been better if they had never been returned to their families. He knew Vin’s story from some of the long weekends they had spent at the ranch and he wondered if the young sharpshooter wouldn’t have been happier if he had stayed.

They slept in the next morning. Vin was quiet as he showered and dressed. The black slacks had a crisp crease and the blue shirt brought out the color of Vin’s eyes. His long, tawny mane hung loose after he debated pulling it back and decided not to. They ordered room service rather than face the strangers in the dining room.

Chris took his cue from Vin and left off the suit jacket. His shirt was charcoal gray and his tie was dark with tiny white accents. He folded several linen handkerchiefs into his pocket in case they needed them later.

The parking lot at the church was full and the streets were cordoned off for blocks in each direction. They had to give their name to an officer at the barricade and were directed to pull in behind another vehicle in front of the church. It seemed that all of the ‘kids’ were being parked there so they could follow the hearse to the cemetery.

The smell of flowers was almost overpowering and it looked like every florist from Flagstaff to Dallas had been stripped of flowers. Vin was directed to the front row, with the rest of the ‘kids’ and he hung back, not wanting Chris to sit by himself. They compromised when the usher seated Chris right behind him.

When the minister got up to speak, Chris was reminded of the man who had spoken at Sarah and Adam’s funeral. It wasn’t so much the way he looked, but the way he sounded as he spoke about the dearly departed. Matt Anastasoff had been a part of the congregation for a long time. He had been very active in the community. But it was when he began to speak of the many children who had passed through his home that the words brought tears.

“Matt and Dotty loved each and every one of the wayward souls who came into their care. Matt was so proud of all of you. Even though they had their own children, they had enough love and caring for more. Each of you was special in your own way. From the sad and broken children who had never known a caring touch to the hurt and hardened who resisted their caring, each of you was shaped by their love,” the minister explained. His voice was soft as he continued, “Matt kept up with as many of you as he could. He prayed for you Greg, and you Daniel and Jimmy and Vin, when you were serving your country. He prayed for you Manuel, when your wife lost her battle with cancer.”

The drive to the cemetery was made in silence. Chris pressed a handkerchief into Vin’s hand and used another to mop the moisture from his own eyes.

At the cemetery, all of the Anastasoff ‘kids’ lined up to help with the casket. It was passed from hand to hand until it sat on the stand over what would be its final resting place. The ‘kids’ formed a circle around the grave with their families behind them, then the rest of the mourners were allowed to choose their place. The service was brief and the minister dismissed them. Annette stepped forward and asked the ‘kids’ to stay. When the rest of the mourners had returned to their cars, she bent down and pulled a box out from behind the headstone.

Vin looked down in disbelief when Tom pressed something into his hand. He shook his head; he couldn’t be serious, could he? But the same item was given to each one of them. Finally, Tom and Annette returned to their places in the circle.

“I know many of you think I’m crazy and some of you think this is irreverent, but mom and dad would have wanted us to do this,” Julie announced. With that, she raised her hands and pulled the trigger.

Jack looked down at the spots of water on his shirt and he raised his hand and aimed at Danny, who was on the other side of the casket.

Chris leaned back against the tree with Annette and Julie’s husbands and children. He watched in amused disbelief as twenty-odd young people engaged in a water fight in the cemetery. Faces that had been drawn in grief were suddenly animated as they fired and ducked. There were only a few ounces of water in the bottles but it was enough to resurrect a fond memory for all of them.

It was nearly dark when they finally made it back to the hotel. Chris had heard many, many embarrassingly funny stories about a young Vin Tanner. It seemed that he had developed his wicked sense of humor while living with Matt and Dotty. There were several photo albums showing pictures of the gangly, long-haired teenager. One picture showed Vin proudly holding up his first fish, another of him roasting hotdogs over a campfire.

Their flight left around midday. Vin held on to the album Julie had pressed into his hands. During the flight, he showed the photos to Chris and told him the stories behind them. He talked about the relationships between himself and the other boys.

After retrieving Chris’ truck from the long-term parking lot, they were finally on the highway headed for the ranch. The rest of the team was there and they were having a bar-b-que. As they were coming up the driveway, Chris asked, “What made you leave there if you were so happy?”

“Dotty died and they wouldn’t let Matt raise us by himself,” Vin answered. “If she had only made if another month or so…”

“What difference would that have made?”

“They were trying to adopt me. We were just waiting for a court date.”

Chris parked the truck but didn’t shut off the engine, “Why wouldn’t they let him adopt you? There are a lot of single parents out there.”

“It’s just the rules. They came and got all of us a few days after the funeral. Daniel and I ended up in the same foster home for a little while, until he got into trouble at school and they sent him to a group home,” Vin said softly. “Matt made me promise to keep it together until he exhausted the legal appeal … it took them over a month to tell him he couldn’t get me back … so I left.”

“That’s so wrong,” Chris replied.

“Yeah, but if he had’a adopted me, I’d probably never have met Nettie Wells … or the rest of you guys,” Vin countered, glancing out the windshield to see his other ‘brothers’ standing on the porch waiting for them. “So, all in all, I’d say it turned out alright.”

**Author's Note:**

> I got so tired of all the stories where Vin had a dreadful, awful time in foster care. While there are bad homes out there, there are also good, loving, supportive homes where the kids are as happy as possible while their world is turned upside down. This is my take on a 'good' foster home.


End file.
